Sunny Beach Rhythms II

_smash_the_clocks.mp3

Space In Between Us (Expanded Edition)

Glory Defined

Phil Wickham

Divine Romance

Get it here!

Throttle - Money Maker (feat Lunchmoney Lewis & Aston Merrygold)

American Prodigal

Keep Me

Submit Your Music to Our Spotify Playlists:
http://bit.ly/auxspotifysubmit

Beauty is a nectar which intoxicates the soul.


"Sandcastles" (ToWonder x Severo Remix)
Spotify: http://smarturl.it/SandcastlesRemixSp
iTunes: http://smarturl.it/SandcastlesRemixIt

Support the movement:
Facebook: www.facebook.com/thexocollective
Twitter: www.twitter.com/thexocollective

Support Adam Jensen:
Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/adamjensenmusic
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AdamJensenMusic
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/user/AdamJensenMusic

Support ToWonder
Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/towondermusic
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/towondermusic

Support Severo
Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/severo-5
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/severoofficial



<a href='https://theartistunion.com/tracks/a7f62a'>Download for free on The Artist Union</a>

| Free Download |

Adam Jensen - Sandcastles (ToWonder x Severo Remix)

This song is a personal one and close to my heart. It's about breaking free from the toxic things that weigh us down. It's about finding ones freedom. It tells a story of a young woman. An urban tale of sorts. I find bits of my story in her. You may too. 

This single also marks the beginning of a journey towards publicly releasing my first body of original work, #BennettAve. Which will be available for digital purchase later this month!

I wanted to tell a story with this project. From the music to the artwork. So I sat down and brainstormed with my brother, fellow artist, Jeremiah Jae and commissioned him to create the artwork for this single and the album to follow.

Let the journey begin. Lend me your ears.

Sweet Darlin

Starboy

Starboy (feat. Daft Punk)

I was born half Baptist (the East Texas, King James carrying, pipe organ, hymnal singing, Southern, type Baptist) and half Pentecostal (the Holy Ghost, jumpin' and shoutin', hand-waving, prophecying, Southern, type Pentecostal). Later, I was born again.

The son of an insurance salesman and a social worker, fructifying in the piney woods of Texarkana, I was as muddled as the name of my town. We drove a light blue Ford Thunderbird; not the old, classic kind, but a brand  new one that had a sticker on it. The one with the electric windows and mirrors and the headlamp covers that flipped open when you turned on the headlights and an in-dash eight-track player. My dad and mom both used Aqua Net hair spray. He parted it on the right side and always carried a comb. She got permanents and had curlers that heated up every Saturday night while we all watched The Lawrence Welk Show and Hee-Haw. The eight-tracks in rotation were Elvis, Willie Nelson, Olivia Newton John, and Bill Gaither. Everything I've ever done musically can be traced back to there -- that Ford Thunderbird, those sounds, the view out of those windows, and my brother punching me in the arm on the way to Sunday morning Church. That is all metaphor and all true.

I didn't mean to write and sing songs for a living. Doesn't seem like much of a thing to get paid for. I'd guess the odds are about the same as winning the lottery or getting struck by lightning. Given my nepotistic hookup, my assumption was that I would move back home after college to sell insurance for my dad and eventually take over the family practice. Who doesn't love a good actuary table? And yet, one late October night, on an apartment balcony in Waco, Texas, just off of the Baylor University campus where I was student, a friend spun yarns that fell on me like a blanket and the course of my life was altered. He was an itinerant pastor of a rural church just outside of town. "So, I get a call at two in the morning," he says. "It's Carl Reeves on the phone, 'Pastor. We need you. You gotta get out here, now.' And so I go. I get in my truck and I go," he says. "It turns out Carl has a cow that has taken sick and he wants me to pray for it. To get in the mud, put my hands on this cow and pray for divine intervention on behalf of this bovine beast. And so, there I am. In the mud, chasing this cow around, trying to get my hands on the thing long enough to spit out a prayer."

Right then, I was being rescued. I had left the church and this was the beginning of my way back. As it goes with hypocrisy, judgement, dogmatism, and all the rest of it that Jesus put to death, it's hard to see in yourself what you readily see in others. And into my cynicism and anger my friend began to dream aloud, "What if church really was like family. What if we pretended the, 'brother and sister, son and daughter,' stuff was real. What if relationships were thought to be rare and valuable things. What if it was just a bunch of people that loved each other and were simply trying their best to follow this Jesus we read of in scripture. What if we pretended, the 'love your neighbor as yourself,' thing was a better way to live. What if we got in the mud for each other at two in the morning? What if the cow dies and it's ok because we are there, in it together. What if we pretended we are all sinners. What if we pretended grace is real. What if the word 'pretend' felt less powerful than the word 'believe' because we did actually believe. What if…"

Keep Me

Crowder

Recent comments

Hec!! BronxMade Man

Related tracks